Rebirth
by Duality Crest
Summary: Twenty years had gone by since Sin's demise, no one expected it to return, and no one had hope when it did... Please R
1. Introduction

**A/N**: This story, I'm not quite sure how well I executed it, I had a great idea in my mind about it, but reading it now, not so sure. Reviews appreciated.

Also, thanks to Renmiri for helping me with parts of it through discussion at the Final Phantasy Legend forum.

* * *

It had taken him twenty three years to complete his task, but he was finally ready, he was finally whole. Yu Yevon would finally get his vengeance,

He silently glided through the farplane's sky, thankful that the pyreflies that followed him kept their distance. He would need them soon enough, but he had already found those that made up his soul and he did not want the stray pyrefly bonding to him.

_At least, not yet_, he mused.

Staying high in the air, he hugged the stone ceiling as he flew into the very heart of his current home. Gradually, the air turned a hazy blue from the rich golden hue it was near the Guado entrance. The ceiling became pitted, and eventually holes could be seen leading through the earth.

He knew he had to choose carefully. If he emerged in the wrong place, his plan would be ruined. He knew his solution. Concentrating, he forced the nearby pyreflies to take on the form of their life, or at least their dream. Slowly, the great birdlike beast coalesced, a sight far less grand than it would have been so many years ago. It flew into one hole, and quickly reappeared only to dive into another.

The creature eventually came to rest by one opening. Satisfied, he dismissed the creature's form, but not the pyreflies that made it, and took off down the fissure that hopefully led to the Calm Lands.

He emerged into darkness, scattering nearby fiends as the light of the trailing pyreflies illuminated the cavern to an unprecedented degree. He felt a few the pyreflies remembered this place, but now was not the time for such nostalgia.

Somehow, he managed to clear the tunnels of the debris that blocked their path, and gently commanded the pyreflies surrounding him to congeal on the walls, to solidify into the shapes that they had not known for many years.

Slowly, many figures emerged. Human figures. He knew most of these from the past, he was there when they were first formed on top of the nearby mountain, but there were new figures, younger ones. One had long hair weighed down by many weights; another had wings erupting from her back, while others were arranged in more unusual fashions. He sensed a strange power coming from them. He quietly approached one such statue, only to have a purple blur emerge from the centre of the ring upon which the statue was formed.

_New minds,_ thought Yevon as he let the shadow pass by, knowing that it would return when he began_, they will help rebuild._

Soon, the cavern was filled with fayth. He could feel their minds flooding into his; their dreaming had begun anew. But he could not summon just yet, he still lacked something.

"Return to the farplane," called a voice from behind him. He swivelled his bug like body to find the source. On the edge of the precipice stood a cloud of pyreflies. At its centre could be seen a man, his form growing more and more defined as the pyreflies condensed. His scarlet coat billowed as he flung his arm from within its grip, grasping the large sword that the man was so fond of.

_Perfect, _he thought. It was no aeon, he realised, but this being has a will strong enough for him to build on.

The man swung at him, but the heavy blade passed through his body as if he was not there.

Again, the blade swung, to no avail, and on the third stroke, Yevon made his move.

The being cried out in agony as the parasitical entity pierced his dead skin, merging with the pyreflies within. He quickly took control of the unsent's mind, preventing him from dispersing himself. He would not lose his grasp until the summoning begins, and by then, he would have made this man into something far greater than the legendary Guardian he once was. Something that he cannot just will out of existence like he can himself. He would be trapped within.

Consolidating his control over the man, he heard the blade fall to the ground. He knew it was unusual for weaponry to be a part of ones soul, it must be quite precious to the man, and it would remain here for eternity, or until he too was defeated, a fate he would never allow again.

Walking the man out of the cavern, he once more began to draw pyreflies to him as he did one thousand years ago, feeling slight bemusement at the trail of souls that had heard his call from the farplane itself, and had began to pour out of the cavern.

_Soon, all of Spira will burn_, he promised himself, glancing up at the tall mountain that stood to the north, _and Zanarkand will live in peace.

* * *

_

In the many years of the Eternal Calm, Besaid had grown much larger than was ever dreamt possible, and she was overjoyed at the plans to build a blitzball stadium on the island. He often complained, jokingly though, about the long journeys to Luca to compete.

Time however, was not on his side. As they grew older, small complaints he had grew worse, and he was often the stuff of ridicule among the younger players, but he still liked to show his worth, and was often the one ridiculing them for letting an "Old Timer" beat them. He and Wakka, who by now had grown too old for blitz, a fact that was proven when he nearly drowned after only three minutes in the pool, managed the Besaid Aurochs together.

And now he was eagerly leaping into a tale based around another Auroch "oldie" having just finished his evening meal.

She began to clear the table at which they sat, achingly noting it was only set for two. She was never destined to have children with him, not with his, unique, nature. Though he stood to help her, he continued his story, and she retreated into the kitchen, occasionally saying something when prompted.

However, silence soon fell inside the dining area, broken only by the sound of crockery falling to the floor.

She ran back into the room, only to see a fate she had not feared for twenty years. Pyreflies hovered where he once stood, and began to fall back.

She chased them; tears were beginning to role down her face,

_No!_ she thought.

"No!"she cried.

She chased them through the town. People glanced worriedly at the sight of the High Summoner running after a cloud of pyreflies. Few knew what it meant, and even fewer still understood.

She chased them up the steps of the old temple. She pursued them through the long abandoned Cloister of Trials, and to the chamber of the Fayth. Within, she could here a song she had almost forgotten filling the void at the centre. Though the pit had been covered years ago, it was easy for the pyreflies to escape through it.

She had lost them, had lost him. She collapsed to the ground. Tears flowed freely over her cheeks; emotions she had not felt for two decades emerged.

"Lady Yuna," said a small voice above her. Looking up from her tear stained dress, she saw a small figure floating nearby, his purple hood a sight she had missed, but whose absence gave reassurance.

"Why?" she said, struggling to regain her composure in front of the fayth.

"It has begun again," he said, sorrow laced his features from beneath his cloak.

"Why did you take him?" she demanded, anger replacing her grief.

"It was not our doing," he stated simply. "You must leave this island immediately."

"What do you mean, who's doing it then?"

"Yu Yevon. Sin has returned. Yu Yevon has rebuilt the Summoning. He was called back home."

"But this is his home!"

"No, this is no longer anyone's home. Sin is coming and it is different this time. It is thirsty for blood. We cannot stop it, and neither can you yet. You must leave! You must find a way to release us from the dream. Before we dreamt aeons, and were mere spectators to the summoning, our sleep was relatively peaceful, now though we are part of the summoning. I already feel the pull to return. You must find a way to defeat Sin, and Yu Yevon before all of Spira is reduced to ashes, and all that is left is the dream.

"Please, you must be wrong," she begged. "We defeated Sin, killed Yu Yevon. It is no more."

The figure began to fade from view. "We are not wrong, and your time grows short. Believe us like you did so many years ago." A tremor rocked the ground, causing dust to fall from the ceiling. As the last of the boy's features grew faint, he muttered, "You are too late. Sin is here."


	2. Chapter 1

"Praetor," said Pacce's aide, "The council is meeting."

"Thank you Turos," relied the Praetor as he walked down one of Luca's passageways on his way to meet the leaders of the other factions. He felt nervous at this event. It was his first unity meeting since becoming Praetor of New Yevon after Baralai stepped down last year, and he wished that Isaaru were here instead of him. But Isaaru had never wished to be Praetor, he preferred a more sedentary life than leading New Yevon, thus he encouraged the aging Baralai to hand over to Pacce who had rose quickly through the group after the Kinderguardians disbanded.

_Why didn't I keep them going?_ he mused longingly as he strode into the grand hall built deep within the Lucan Stadium. The others were already assembled. Lucil of the youth league stood against a nearby wall, the grey that had begun to streak her hair vastly more visibly in the bright light of the chamber. Representing the Machine Faction, and the Al Bhed in general was Gippal who sat at the central table, grasping eagerly to the walking stick left to him by Nooj when he died three years ago. The ever-frail Trommell also sat at the table. The old Guado was nearing his seventy fifth birthday and it looked genuinely hard for him to breath, as it did most times Pacce had seen him. Standing on the far side of the table was the Ronso delegation, Lian and Ayde. Accompanying them though was a rare sight. The Ronso elder very rarely left Mount Gagazet, but like his predecessor for meetings of the Maesters, Kimahri Ronso felt the need to be present today was of more importance than usual, and with good reason too.

"Finally," said the chairman at the head of the table, his steely grey eyes noticing Pacce's entrance. "Please be seated," he added motioning for everyone to take their seat, except the Ronso who chose never to sit at these meetings, and, like their elder, stood at the foot of the table, arms folded across their chests.

He politely nodded to the Ronso elder as he walked past him to reach his seat near the head of the table. Though he had never been here before, Pacce knew how to conduct himself here, and of its importance to Spira. Set up fifteen years ago after a near war between New Yevon and the Youth League, the council's duty was to allow all voices in Spira to be heard for major projects, such as restoring Baaj, or simply a neutral place to settle disputes between Spira's major groups.

"I trust you are aware of recent rumours concerning Besaid?" asked the chairman, receiving Solemn nods as his answer. "Does anyone know the cause?"

"I believe I may some light to shed on this situations," spoke up the Guado, his slow voice barely audible. "In recent days, the farplane has been unusually quiet. When once clouds of pyreflies could be seen everywhere, now there are few. Something has drained them from the farplane."

No one knew what this meant, and Pacce was the first to speak again. "That seems to be a pretty dim light Trommell," he suddenly remarked earning him a disapproving look from the chairman. Quickly turning to Gippal, he asked, "Have your airships seen anything recently."

"Nope," he replied, "In fact, I haven't even heard from them for days. They were off delivering machina to the Baaj site, and that's the last I know of them."

"Have you sent drones to the Island?" asked Lucil.

"Yeah, but I ain't heard from them either."

"And you're not concerned?"

"Of course I'm concerned. I spent a good amount of gil fixin' those babies up, only for them to go AWOL, it's enough to make anyone concerned." Shifting awkwardly in his seat, he added, "Well, actually, I got a partial signal from one of the drones. It was pretty messed up, and I wanted to try again before showing it to you guys-"

"Show use," demanded the chairman.

"But its barely viewable-" he began before another reproaching glare from the chairman was sent his way. "Fine," he said pulling a sphere from his jacket.

The scene that played was awful. The land that could be seen through the static was scorched. Great valleys could be seen dug into the earth, slowly flooding as seawater ran in. Few bodes could be seen, but even with the static, it was clear that there were no buildings left standing, and that no one survived. The only movement was that of fiends fighting each other.

"Kimahri know of only one thing that can destroy like that," said the Ronso after many minutes as the scene became too degraded to be usable.

"And you're right Kimahri," said a voice by the doorway. Pacce turned in his seat to view the newcomer, a woman he had not seen for many years.

"High Summoner," called the chairman, standing up with shock clear on the old mans face. "You are not permitted to be in these meetings. How did you gain access?"

Ignoring the cries of the chairman, Yuna walked towards the table, smiling as Kimahri stepped aside for her.

"Sin has returned," she said to the group as many gasps of shock emerged as Pacce felt his own heart skip a beat. He was but a boy when Sin was last defeated, yet he knew of the pain and destruction it caused. Isaaru and Maroda often told of how they had each been orphaned by Sin in Bevelle, and had been raised as brothers. They told him to be thankful that he could not remember the night Sin came, so now that Sin had returned, he grew fearful.

"How?" cried Lucil in volume that matched that of the chairman's pleas for explanation.

"I do not know," said Yuna quietly, "but it came to Besaid. I saw it"

"We saw the island afterwards," said Gippal glancing at the now blank sphere screen, "the only way you could have seen it was to have been there, and there were no survivors."

"I was there, yes," she agreed, "and yes, there were no survivors." As she said this, she broke into pyreflies, allowing them to swirl around her as though she was on the farplane. Feeling chilled at being in the same room as an unsent, Pacce's mind froze as a second wave of shocked breathlessness rushed other those gathered. Her point made, Pacce watched as Yuna recalled the pyreflies, solidifying her form once again.

He was also the first to speak up afterwards. "How are we supposed to defeat Sin? The Aeons are no more, the pilgrimage a shame, and the only one who thought she had permanently defeated it is in need of a sending."

"Please, do not send me yet," she asked. "I may be of some help."

"How?" challenged the Al Bhed.

Feeling hope drain from the room, Yuna simply said, "We will find a way."

"You said that last time," said Pacce as he stood, "You killed Yu Yevon and sent him to the farplane. Yet Sin has returned and is bloodier than ever. If Yu Yevon was the cause of Sin, how has it returned? None have ever returned from the farplane after being sent!"

Speaking for he first time since Yuna appeared, the Trommell faced the Praetor, "That is not true. If you would care to recall twenty three years ago, Lord Jyscal also required a second sending after emerging from the farplane. Yu Yevon may have a strong bond to Spira, strong enough to cause him to return, though as a mere unsent. No offence milady," he quickly added after when he realised the High Summoners status.

"So if you do kill Sin again, send Yu Yevon. What then?" challenged Pacce, the fear that had emerged earlier lowly turning to anger. "He returns decades later to begin he cycle again. The teachings were right. Sin is eternal."

"No, the teachings were wrong. They were based upon lies," spat Yuna.

Getting to his feat, Pacce leaned over the desk as anger could be seen burning within him. "Sin may not have been our punishment to begin with, but it has turned out so. We had clearly not atoned in the millennia Sin existed for, and since you defeated Sin, machina has overrun Spira once again. If anything, we have gone backwards. Is it no coincidence that on its return Sin destroyed an entire community, levelled an entire Island?" Though he had never had a great deal of faith in the teachings since he was a child, he felt the rhetoric that he was brought up on flooding back. "We have blasphemed heavily and this is only the beginning of our punishment."

"Hey boy, calm down," said Gippal as he pulled Pacce back into his seat. "We're not licked yet."

"Yeah, like you have a plan," he scoffed. "And you lady Yuna, have you yet to think of something?" he added, knowing hatred laced his voice, even though she was so kind to him when he was a child.

Within moment of his statement however, the three Ronso were upon him, the elder lifted him high in the air so he was mere inches from he beasts face. The chairman behind Pacce called for order, but the Ronso ignored, preferring instead to threaten the Praetor.

"You speak to Yuna with respect, or Kimahri ensure you never speak again," he said, Rotten meat could easily be smelled on his breath, while Pacce struggled for his own. After hurriedly nodding his acknowledgement, the Ronso returned him to his seat and walked calmly to his own, though he still refused to sit. The chairman looked calmer, but was still infuriated.

"Ronso, you will control yourself or you will be dismissed from these meetings," he continued to squawk, but elicited nothing more than a growl from Kimahri. Rubbing his neck, he saw Lucil's old face taught with confusion. So far she had done nothing more than ask how Sin had returned, but now Pacce sensed the leader of the Youth League was about to join the debate.

"This is truly a blow for Spira," she said.

"You think?" muttered Pacce under his breath. He stood to leave, saying, "I must return to Bevelle. This news will not be welcomed." Looking to Lucil and Gippal he added, "I suggest you remove any of your people from the city soon. I cannot predict how the citizens will react to blasphemers such as yourselves."

"Unfortunately, I must agree with you," said Lucil, also standing from her seat. "I would not want a war on our hands, not when Sin has returned."

"Well I ain't pulling my people out of your city," said Gippal as he stood, clearly shifting his weight onto the walking stick.

"Then I pray that your people come to no harm," said Pacce as he approached the doorway.

"Wait!" called the High Summoner from behind him. "I'm sorry that you think I brought this upon you, but there is no need to return to the teachings!"

"You say that, yet you have no answer. At least the teachings give us hope. False hope it may be, but it is certainly the most effective method we have to date."

"And what then, will you restart the pilgrimages? With no aeons, you have no hope of training Summoners. Without Yunalesca, you have no Final Aeon. What point is there to the teachings without its main purpose?"

"It is better than no hope milady," he said, finally turning to face the dead summoner.

"No, it is not. Do you hope that one day Sin will just disappear? That one day, after all the non believers have died and all that are left are mindless believers, that Yevon will grant you your wish, and would return to the farplane. You are a fool to think that."

Walking over to the summoner, but watchful of the Ronso standing behind her, he replied, "But you too were once a mindless believer, were you not? You showed us that glorifying Yevon was a mistake and had no purpose. Yevon was nothing more than a core, preoccupied in a summoning you once told us after you defeated Sin. Now the fayth are gone. Yevon cannot summon. He must be controlling Sin. If we return to the teachings, to Yevon, perhaps he will take pity on us and spare the believers. He may never go away again, but he might never attack us again. That is the hope that the teachings bring now."

"But you're wrong. The fayth have also returned. They spoke to me. The summoning has begun anew."

"Then summon an aeon," he challenged, stepping back as if to give her room.

"I cannot. They are no longer aeons, and are part of the dream now."

"Then you are lying. The fayth are as dead as they have been since you sent them. They are no more," he snapped as he turned again to the lone exit.

"I will think of something, I promise you," she said just as the doors opened to allow Pacce through.

"Your promises mean nothing now high summoner."

"Meet me in Zanarkand, at dawn tomorrow, all of you, and I will find a path," was the last thing he heard of her before the doors closed behind him.


	3. Chapter 2

Yuna emerged from blackness to be soaring high above Besaid. Sin could be seen retreating off into the distance, and survivors scrabbled below for footing on the ruined beach. Yet, she did not feel right. Anger swirled within, and emanated from those nearby. Anger towards the living. She was grief stricken at his loss, and didn't care how it manifested.

_There!_ she thought, flying towards one of the survivors, an old man with orange hair. She felt she recognised him, and the female body he was pulling from the water, but she pounced regardless.

_No!_ she cried within her mind. This was not her. She could feel other souls within; none were remorseful at this attack. She felt that she was the only one whole out of this assemblage. Yet, the attack continued.

She fought against it, but the more she fought, the more she fell within the grasp of her situation. She felt claws ripping into the man's flesh, and powerful wings holding her aloft. The more effort she expended, the more ferocious the attack grew. Defenceless, the man tried to cover his wife, trying to protect her cold body from harm. Yuna finally gave up fighting; she just wanted it to be over. As she fell into the abyss that she knew would hold her for eternity, prowling Spira, looking for the helpless, she remembered happy times in her life.

Slowly, the fiend's attacks faltered, and eventually gave way to the joy of Yuna's recollections. It collapsed to the ground and Yuna was blissfully unaware of the freedom that had just been granted to her as it died.

Out of the pyreflies that came from the fiend's death, fell a lone body. It was no more alive than the fiend that it had been before, but it was at least more human. She gradually regained awareness, immediately wishing she was still dreaming.

Nearby lay the broken body of her friends. The woman was fortunate to have died hours ago, but the orange haired man was not so lucky. Yuna cried over the memory that she retained from the attack, and tried to send the souls of her friends, but found she could not.

She suddenly felt hot breath on her back, and turned to face the fiend that had coalesced behind her, only to see it launch itself towards her, teeth bared.

* * *

"No!" screamed Yuna as she awoke, cursing the fact that, even though she was dead, she still dreamt. She lay on the dirt mound that once sheltered her friends from the cold see breeze when they camped here, their first night in Zanarkand. She could have gone anywhere, she could even have rode Sin to the Summoning, but she chose to stay here and watch the sunset, eventually falling asleep. With Besaid gone, this was the only place that felt truly at home to her now.

She found herself wondering at how Auron coped those tens years of death. The sights he had seen in his life, and death, were enough to make her skin crawl. Twice he had gone on the pilgrimage, and twice he had to face his demons.

"Sir Auron rarely slept on pilgrimage," said the deep voice of a Ronso now walking towards her down the steep slope into the city. "And when he did, it was never restful."

Shocked at how Kimahri knew what she was thinking, she approached him, "How did you know I was thinking of Sir Auron?"

"This place has many pyreflies," he said, pointing to the surrounding clouds, glowing brightly in the night's cold air. "They show dream and thoughts of those nearby. You are being very emotional, make clouds more receptive. Kimahri see Yuna's death on walk down from Gagazet."

She turned away from her old friend, knowing that he too now knew of her nightmare.

"Kimahri believe Wakka and Lulu not hate you for this. You did not control fiend, and you tried to stop it. Kimahri believe they glad that you survived, in some fashion at least."

She ran over to the blue Ronso, tears rolling down her face. She was unable to speak. The pain of the last few days, losing him, killing good friends, seeing her home be destroyed, all of it finally flooded out of her now, and all Kimahri could do was offer a shoulder for her.

"Come, there is something you must see," he said after a while, and together they silently began crossing the mountain.

* * *

Hours later they had arrived at the mountain gate, the stars were floating high in the nights sky, but cloud obscured them and any moonlight that would normally shine down on the ground. Kimahri was the first to speak since they had left Zanarkand. "Yuna not smell like Yuna anymore. Yuna smell like Sir Auron."

"Hmm… You met Sir Auron before he died, didn't you?" she asked as they passed through the large stone gateway.

"Yes. When Sir Auron joined us in Luca many years ago, he too smelled different to how he did when I first met him."

"So, how do we smell?" she asked, her voice trying to be cheerful, but the emotion was betrayed by the look on her face.

"You have no smell."

That small statement put an end to any further conversation until they reached the calm lands. After emerging from the cavern at the foot of Gagazet, they approached the gorge.

"Look," said Kimahri as they stood on the ledge. Down in the gorge was water. It flowed out of the nearby cavern, and drained off the ledge.

"So, it's just flooded," she said. "Some stream from the hot springs on the peak probably just got blocked and water got sent here instead."

"That what Ronso first thought, then we go inside cavern to see where water come from," he said as he crossed the bridge and began to walk down the slope to the gorge valley.

"What did you find Kimahri?" asked Yuna as she ran up behind him.

"Come and you will see why you need to be here."

They walked down to the valley and entered the cavern.

The air grew chilled, and the walls glowed in a terrifyingly familiar pattern. As their breath misted in front of them, human shapes could be seen on the walls, shapes Yuna remembered from long ago, and prayed she would never see again.

The Fayth that once lined Gagazet's peak now lined these walls. Moving further inside, and ignoring the water that was now up to her waste, they found more and more. The floor was paved with statues she thought she had sent to the farplane. The ceiling rippled with bodies one thousand years old.

As they approached the corridor that led to the Chamber of the Fayth back when an aeon once resided here, she saw what she had feared, what she knew to be true.

She once prayed to them, now the statues that once opened their souls to the summoner as she travelled Spira were silent to her. Their minds full of the dreaming of Zanarkand. They had been her allies, even friends, and now they too were trapped in this.

"Before we dreamt aeons, and were mere spectators to the summoning, our sleep was relatively peaceful, now though we are part of the summoning," she repeated as she approached the boy Fayth's statue. "How did you become involved?" she whispered to the statues dragon-like head.

"Fayth not all Yuna should see," said Kimahri from behind Yuna. Turning she saw the Ronso lifting a heavy weapon out of the water. He carried it over to Yuna so she could see the markings that ran down the blade, and the twin points at its tip.

"No Kimahri," she said when she recognised the weapon. "You returned it to the statue on the highroad ten years ago."

"Rikku found sword in sea near Bevelle. She told you, and came to me. I carried it to the Highroad, and set it in one of the statues. It still there too, Ronso youth checked before I came to Zanarkand."

"So this isn't Sir Auron's sword?"

"Kimahri not know."

Tremors suddenly shook the ground, and though not a drop of dust fell from the ceiling, Yuna felt that she was about to die again.

"We must leave," growled Kimahri as they ran from the cave, Yuna heaving the giant sword to her shoulder, and together they fought the current, even though its flow would help them leave if they allowed it to sweep them from their feet.

Emerging outside, they saw Sin's gigantic form towering over them. Its many bulbous eyes focused upon them.

Kimahri grasped the spear that he always carried with him and held it ready, while Yuna tried to heave the masamune to a fighting stance for it was the only weapon that she carried.

"Yuna. Run!" yelled Kimahri as he swung his old lance at Sin. In response to the fleeing woman, Sin dropped one of its giant limbs into the gorge, blocking the exit.

"Kimahri!" cried Yuna hoping her first Guardian from long ago could help.

"Stand back!" he snarled in response as he unleashed nova onto the limb.

The rage skill he once learnt from the Omega fiend succeeded in blasting open Sin's appendage, allowing Yuna to run through once the fiery energies subsided. Looking back to the Ronso though, she hesitated. Kimahri was exhausted after using so much energy to open the path, and he could barely stand, using the spear to prop himself up.

"Go!" he barked when he saw her hesitate.

Torn between two feelings, staying to help Kimahri, even if it meant she was likely to be scattered by Sin, or flee to help Spira at the cost of an old friends life. Kimahri worked his way to his feet, returning to his battle stance and told Yuna to leave once more.

"I once made oath to protect you with my life," he growled, "Never have recanted oath. Leave Yuna. Flee and find way to defeat Sin forever." Yuna hesitated still, and the wound in Sin's limb was beginning to regenerate. "Go!"

She finally decided her course. She ran through the injury, swinging the masamune into the nearby flesh, hindering its recovery progress, keeping her path clear.

As she ran up the slope and charged across the bride that led to Gagazet Yuna could hear energy raining down into the water below, yet she continued to run. Her pace merely faltered when a strangled roar reached her ears as she passed through the mountain gate and made her way back to Zanarkand.

_So many friends had died in the last few days, and Sin was still young. Things could only get worse,_ she thought, still carrying a guardian's blade over her shoulder. She thought of how Kimahri's attack wounded Sin and recalled how it would never have been able to do that twenty three years ago. Feeling hope rise within her, she let a notion pass though her mind. _But maybe, Sin's youth is also the key._


	4. Chapter 3

Pacce, against his better judgement, had decided to come to Zanarkand as requested. The news of Sin's rebirth did not go down well in the temple, and as feared, many of those still faithful to the teachings began taking their anger out on the Al Bhed who had remained in the city. There were no riots as of yet, but he feared it was only a matter of time.

"She said she'd be here," complained the chairman, stirring Pacce from his musings. The council members had been gathered outside the Zanarkand dome for two hours now, and the sun was already climbing high into the sky.

"You think someone's sent her?" joked Gippal as he walked around, using Nooj's old cane to help him remain upright.

"Been too long," said Ayde. "I go look in ruins," he added before leaving the group in search of the dead summoner.

"There is no need Ayde," said a voice within the entrance to he dome. Pyreflies were condensing into a solid form, and one that was predictably that of the High Summoner. The white dress she wore looked wet through, and over one shoulder she carried a heavy sword.

"Now all we wait for is the Ronso Elder," muttered the chairman.

"He will not be coming," said Yuna, but Pacce felt she was hiding something.

Without looking for confirmation from the Ronso, the chairman continued, "You asked us to be here Lady Yuna, I hope that our journey was not in vain."

Pacce moved around the back of the group. After being so abrasive at their last meeting did not want to draw the woman's attention, but he knew his plan had failed the moment he caught the hem of his robes on some debris and promptly stumbled.

"Praetor Pacce," she said as he stood again. "I thought you would not come. What changed your mind?"

"I have come to see if you can think of a way to defeat Sin," he replied, "It would benefit all of Spira so I should at least try and help if I can." Pausing slightly, he also added in a rather anxious voice, "I have also come to apologise for my words when we last met."

"No apology is needed Pacce," she said before addressing the group. "Thank you for coming today."

"Have you found a way yet?" asked Lucil, trying to avoid further distractions.

"I think so. Sin is still young. It is still weak."

"Er… I doubt that if it can obliterate an island it can be considered weak," snorted Gippal as he sat amongst the ruins next to Trommell who had not yet said anything.

"It is strong yes, but it is also weak defensively," Pacce could tell that everyone, including himself was confused by the statement. Yuna appeared to note that too and pyreflies began appearing around her. "Watch."

The pyreflies coalesced into shapes. Though it was from Yuna's viewpoint, the scene somehow included her. The pyreflies showed Yuna and Kimahri leaving the fayth filled cavern and encountering Sin. Kimahri's voice could be heard, but no more than a faint whisper of its true strength. It showed Sin blocking the slope, and Yuna's cries to Kimahri. A brilliant white flash enveloped the limb, condensing and exploding once more, leaving a gaping wound in Sin's limb.

Pacce now understood what she meant, as did the others by the looks on their faces, yet she allowed the memory to continue. She showed her hesitation, and her flight. Not stopping until the terrible roar that she heard at the mountain gate echoed that from her memory.

"You see. Sin's hide is thin, it has not yet had time to solidify into the thick skin that covered Sin many yeas ago," she said despite the sorrow that she had just relived, and the grief that was plain on the Ronso faces also. "If we attack strongly enough, we may destroy Sin's body."

"And what then?" asked Lucil. "The core will remain, Sin will be rebuilt. The Final Aeon killed the core, only to become the new one. What you are suggesting is no different: destroying Sin, but leaving the core intact."

"Then we must kill the core also."

"We do not even know what the core is," said Gippal, "Before it was the Final Aeon. Now, the Aeons are gone and what is left to make the core?"

"No, the aeons are not gone."

"She's right," said Pacce. "I disagreed before as I knew what the Aeons meant to Spira, but I have since seen proof of their return. Ice is starting to form on the edge of the Macalanian Lake and the fires within the Kilikan Temple are burning the hottest they have since the Fayth first vanished. The statues have not returned to the chambers of the fayth, but the Hymn is being heard once again."

"The fayth now gather in the Cavern at the foot of the mountain."

"If the fayth are back, then so are the aeons," reasoned Pacce. "It must be them who Yu Yevon has possessed."

"What is at the core of Sin is of little importance," said Lucil. "If you defeat Yu Yevon again, he will go to the farplane. As you said yourself Praetor in the last meeting, years later he will return and rebuild Sin and this will begin again."

"I do not know," she looked round at the group hoping for inspiration. "Trommell—"

"The Guado cannot help you either High Summoner," interrupted Trommell from his seat on a ruined wall. "We care for the farplane yes, but are powerless to regulate what goes in or out. You send him, he comes to us and leaves again decades later. You do not send him and he remains on Spira, possibly rebuilding Sin again even sooner. You need to contain his soul somewhere. Of he was human; he could simply be transformed into a fayth, if such things are possible nowadays. But he is dead, nothing more than pyreflies. They are much harder to contain."

"Aren't spheres made of pyreflies?" asked Pacce, an idea forming in his mind.

"Water actually, but with a high pyrefly density," replied Gippal.

"Can we get Yevon's pyreflies form a sphere?"

"Such blasphemy," smiled Gippal. "Would the temples approve?"

"I am the temples," he replied back.

"That still leaves one problem," said Lucil, "How do we reach the core? The hide may be weak, but it can still take a lot to damage it."

"What do you mean?" answered Gippal, getting to his feet so he could face Lucil better. "You saw Kimahri's attack! It went straight through Sin!"

"No," said Lian. "That Nova skill. Only Kimahri knew skill. It most powerful skill Ronso ever seen, and it only blast small hole in Sin's arm. We are proposing to attack Sin's body. Skin undoubtedly thicker. Need more than one nova skill to destroy Sin in an assault."

"Ronso help fight Sin," said Ayde as he stepped forward to join Lian in the conversation. "We seek vengeance for lost Elder."

"The Guado too will help in this fight," chimed in the old Trommell.

"You have the Youth League's support in this too. Let us hope that we have better luck than we did twenty three years ago," added Lucil, eyeing Gippal.

"And you will get the Al Bhed's help too. We have a load of airships that might be useful."

"I think that they might be crucial, as they were twenty three years ago," said Yuna. "And what of New Yevon."

"I must confess, I do not see this plan succeeding. You will attack Sin directly, hoping to break through its skin, kill Yu Yevon and trap him in a sphere. This sounds too far-fetched to work," said Pacce, "I am sorry Lady Yuna, but the Warrior Monks are needed to keep order within Bevelle."

"You are sure Pacce?" she asked. Seeing him nod his response, Yuna turned to the chairman and said, "There is your plan. I hope you are not disappointed."

Yuna turned and began walking to the dome, picking up the heavy sword with which she had arrived. "Gather your forces, we meet on the Calm Lands at dawn tomorrow," she said before walking off into the dome.

Why was she still carrying the sword? It served no purpose to her, and only raised more questions than it answered.

Why was it in the cavern? Yuna felt she knew the answer, but was willing to allow Pacce and the others to continue thinking that an aeon was at its core, and not hers and her fathers guardian. It would make very little difference in the end.

One thing she felt she knew for sure though was that it was affecting her. Strength she never thought she had was beginning to surface. Traits she had only ever seen in the swords owner were beginning to mix with her own. She would never have been able to raise an army like what was soon to happen had she not known of the masamune.

She walked deep into the dome; pyreflies occasionally played memories of those who had passed within. She recognised herself in so many of the summoners who appeared before her. There were so many faces, yet only four had ever been successful.

She made her way through the tunnels and corridors of the ruins, allowing herself to lose focus so she could walk through obstacles in her path. She entered the long quiet cloister of trials and stopped. Behind her, she could hear footsteps.

"Lady Yuna," said a voice which she turned to face.

"Who is to become Elder now?" she asked when she saw it was Lian who had followed her.

"I do not know," he admitted. "Probably Garik. He learnt a lot from Kimahri since Kimahri became Elder. He is well liked amongst tribe, and an honourable warrior who listens to mountain."

"I hope he serves as well as Kimahri did."

"As do I Lady Yuna. I also like to say thank you for telling us of Elder Kimahri's death. It was a worthy death for Elder."

No more words passed between the two, and Ronso left the room, leaving Yuna to her own thoughts.

"I hope you find the farplane Kimahri," she said softly before finding a place to rest.


	5. Chapter 4

It had been a long journey home for Pacce who had been standing on the bridge of the ship for the last five hours since they left Zanarkand. Because of the reinstated teachings, machina was once again outlawed in Bevelle; he was forced to sail home whereas the others flew back to their respective hovels, except for the Ronso who lived on Gagazet. If he had flown back to Bevelle, he would be no better than his maester predecessors.

It was relatively calm waters today as the boat sped across the ocean, circling Gagazet and the Calm Lands. Pacce could see the edge of the final cliff for them to turn at before heading to Bevelle. In the distance could be heard thunder, but Pacce assumed it to be a result of the slowly thickening clouds and a stray storm that had left the torrential confines of the thunder plains and wondered into Macalania as they sometimes do.

That thought was soon dashed from Pacce's mind as great plumes of smoke could be seen over the cliff. He heard a roar and the boat was suddenly rocked by a massive wave. He grabbed onto a nearby wooden column, and managed to see out of the window to see the source of the wave.

Heading for the horizon was Sin. Though it was not moving at a particularly great pace, it was enough to cause the great wave that nearly capsized the vessel.

Feeling the deck level off, Pacce approached the Captain. "Get us to Bevelle now," he said in desperation and fear as he ordered the use of the machina the ship was equipped with.

The captain obliged, knowing it was against the renewed laws, and Pacce soon felt the acceleration of the vessel pin him against the column.

They quickly sped into Sin's wake and tore towards the city. Clear of the rocks that had obscured the city from view, only now could they see the source of the smoke, and Pacce knew his fears were justified.

The great palace at Bevelle's heart was nowhere to be seen. The giant walls that protected the city from the ocean were cracked and broken; in some places, water could be seen flooding into the city through the breached walls. Pacce felt his heart was torn as he saw the city subside, the many viaducts and marshy islands upon which the city was built crumbling after the attack.

The minutes of travel passed in silence among the crew. They slowed as they approached the city, carefully scooping up survivors in the water, and retrieving the bodies of the dead so that they could be given a decent sending. As they neared the docks, they struggled to find a place to tether the ship. Eventually they came across a flat piece of land to which they could pull up next to.

Pacce quickly made his way down to the deck, wanting to be the first off the ship, the first to see his home.

He ran down the walkway onto the scorched ground, heart in his mouth. The warrior monks who had accompanied him on the journey followed quickly behind him. Nearby they heard children screaming in terror. They ran to the sound coming from behind part of the ruined wall, and found two children cornered by Sinspawn. The monks surrounded the fiend, drawing its attention, but it struggled to face them. A monk quickly darted in front of the fiend to rescue the children, and yet the Sinspawn did nothing.

The monks, or at least those old enough to remember Sin, knew that this was unusual behaviour for Sinspawn. It would normally lash out at those nearby, eagerly trying to kill them. This beast however looked as though it could barely stand. The monks swiftly killed the fiend, watching its pyreflies scatter and fade.

As Pacce walked through Bevelle, he saw similar events. Creatures that were left behind by Sin when it attacks were docile, lethargic, weak. Perhaps the High Summoners plan had a chance.

Even so, he still could not aid them in their fight, especially now. The warrior monks who remained were needed to help rebuild Bevelle.

_But to what end,_ he wondered, carefully sidestepping a large hole in the ground through which he could see the various ancient dungeons that riddled the Bevelle basement. _We rebuild Bevelle, and sin destroys it_. Never has Bevelle been hit like this. Isaaru and Maroda once told him of the worst attack to hit the city, and the devastation they described paled in comparison to this.

Occasionally people came up to him, demanding to know why Sin attacked, even though they were a city of believers. It was clear to Pacce that the teachings would never be accepted again. His only hope was gone, and Spira's only hope was the Lady Yuna.

Slowly, Pacce made his way to the foot of the palace, but in its place stood a smouldering ring of metal. The tower had not even been knocked over, Sin had vaporised it.

"Pacce!" he heard a voice call from behind. Turning he faced his brother Isaaru.

"Isaaru," he called back, trying o smile but the destruction around him soon made a smile fall from his lips.

"I am glad you are not hurt."

"Did you ever dream it possible that Bevelle would fall like this?" asked Pacce.

"Never Pacce."

"Do you think it can be restored?" said Pacce, hoping that his earlier thoughts would agree with those of his brother.

"I doubt it," replied Isaaru, a solemn look on his face as he admitted defeat to his brother, and Praetor. "The city is slowly sinking into the sea. Already the Highbridge is fracturing under the stress, and I fear it will not be long before the city joins Baaj and finds rest on the ocean floor."

"No brother," cried Pacce.

"It might be best to start again," conceded Isaaru. "You can build a new Bevelle, one without the lies and secrets that now help to pull this city under."

"This is our home, we cannot abandon it so briskly."

"You are to late Pacce. The city has abandoned us," concluded Isaaru.

Water had begun lapping at Pacce's ankles as if to drive home Isaaru's point. "Do you know how many people survived," he asked.

"No Pacce. All I know is that there are many people fleeing the city by the Highbridge while it still stands, and many others are swimming to shore."

"Thank you Isaaru," said Pacce, deciding upon a path for his city. "I think, we will rebuild Bevelle, but only once Sin is defeated."

"Pacce, how are we to do that?"

"You will see brother, but first, I need to gather the Warrior Monks."


End file.
